


Heart in Hand

by nuricurry



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuricurry/pseuds/nuricurry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nights where he lies awake, thinking about the mistakes he's made, the pain he's caused, the damage he's done. The scars left behind never let him forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart in Hand

There’s a hole in his chest.

At least, it’s what’s left of a hole after ten years of surviving and scarring and healing, the skin having been torn apart then pulled back together. It’s there because his master had never taught him how to touch someone else without hurting them, because he couldn’t handle any emotion other than anger well. He had ripped open the other's chest and tried to yank out his heart because that’s how he felt for so long and he wanted someone else, anyone, to feel the same way he did.

With each breath Hyoga took in, he was forced to remember, over and over again, how quickly he could have stopped him from breathing at all. That scar was a reminder, a ghost that haunted him when he’d end up looking at him late at night, after the other had fallen asleep and the room was a big empty void around him. He had tried to channel out his anger through bitterness and violence, because that was all he knew, and yet each time he did, he’d be left sitting up in bed night after night, regretting things he had done. 

He hadn’t protected her. He had killed the only man who could have even vaguely fit the position of ‘father’. He kept feeding into that cycle that he had wanted to stop. He kept hurting the people closest to him, all because he just didn’t know anything else. 

More movement beside him brought him out of his thoughts, and he watched as the other sat up in bed as well. “What, you don’t get enough of me during the day that you have to stare at me while I’m asleep?” Hyoga teased. Ikki didn’t even bother attempting a response. “Ouch,” he hissed dramatically, “Gimme a break here, I just woke up.”

“I’d buy that, but then that doesn’t explain why you’re just as pathetic the rest of the time,” Ikki said, retort painfully dry. However, Hyoga just laughed again, because Ikki knew he didn’t take anything he said personally anymore. It was strange, how time changed things like that, but would never fully take away the scar on his chest. Some things lingered, no matter how long it had been.

“You should get some sleep,” Hyoga said, and Ikki realized that once again, he had fallen silent, his eyes trained to that bit of marred skin over the other’s heart, “Stop thinking so hard.”

He had to frown, because he was angry, irritated then, that even without saying it, Hyoga told him he knew. He knew what was on his mind, he knew what was keeping him awake. He didn’t like to be so transparent. Without saying anything more, he dropped down onto the mattress, and turned away from him, because he didn’t want to keep looking at him, giving away more things better left hidden.

At his back, Hyoga moved closer, and his arms found their way around his chest. He rested one palm against his heart, against the spot that was unmarked on him, and Ikki let him keep it there, because it soothed the wound that was hidden beneath.


End file.
